While Matt was Away
by Shellecah
Summary: Come home to Dodge, Matt Dillon.


Matt,

A hankering come on me to write you of a strange happening, which could portend trouble. As I cleared the ground of stones in front of the livery, a mustang the like of which I never saw pranced to the water trough. White as new-fallen snow, with an overgrown blue-black mane and tail, she wore no saddle or bridle.

I moved up on her slow and pulled a carrot bit from my pocket. She looked at me, dainty muzzle dripping, and only a lifetime caretaking horses kept me from startling. The mare had one eye colored like a turquoise rock, the other like dark honey. She is an exquisite little creature, and I'm calling her mine. I named her Starlight, and folks visit to look at and pet her. The Dodge Times cameraman took her picture for the front page.

I hear of horse thieving near the Texas border. If the bandits get wind of this mare, they'll make tracks to my stable. She's about three years, worth a good price as a breeder. I keep a shotgun loaded close by, and remind my night man to do the same.

You'd protect our horses and look out for robbers, were you here, Matt. Don't know as I trust this special deputy marshal the town council hired while you're gone. He swaggered around town introducing himself, and seems to me a hard man. His name be Emmett Jansen. I worry how Chester gets on with him.

Mighty unfair, the Marshal's Service holding you in Hays, much as you hate to officiate hangings particular. I hope the appeal goes through to save that farmer's neck. He never struck me as a bad one. Just made one mistake to rob the bank. If the bank clerk hadn't drawn his gun and made like to shoot him first, the sodbuster never would've shot the clerk.

Sorry I am you might have to witness a hanging up close on account of the Hays sheriff getting shot full of holes so he must mend at Saint Francis in Peoria. Ellis County don't fool no one, to claim they're looking for another sheriff. Plain truth is, they want our marshal long as they can keep him.

This be all I got to write. I best stop as the rheumatiz plagues my hands.

Moss Grimmick

Dear Marshal,

I write uneasy in my mind, wishing you were home. Deputy Marshal Jansen has taken a room at my place, which I permit only as I value his money. Would that he was back herding cattle on whatever ranch he came from. To me and other women he is mannerly enough, though forceful with our menfolk, many of whom dare not face up to him. He is a tall, heavy-boned, muscled man, and would be nice-looking were his countenance not so stern.

Mr. Jansen quarreled with Doc about moving a consumptive from the jail to Doc's office. The sick man merely stole a few dollars from the cashbox at Dodge House, and Mr. Jansen carried on like the man was a murderer.

Miss May Tompkins, a nurse who appeared at Doc's door and offered to work for him not long after you left for Hays, boards at my place and told me the whole story. May is by the way a lovely ladylike person, and Doc seems fond of her. He dined as her guest at my place the other night, and you'd think the two of them sat alone at the table.

As for Deputy Marshal Jansen's argument with Doc, May said Chester should have spoken up for Doc and the sick man. "Well, May," I said, "Mr. Jansen didn't hit or push Doc, did he?"

"Mercy, no," said May, her eyes widening. She has gorgeous eyes of an evergreen shade, framed by the longest dark lashes. "Mr. Jansen has a powerful voice, though," May said, "and he snaps his words. He said to Doc, _'This man violated a town ordinance, and he belongs in jail, tubercular or not. You want to do something for him, do it here.'_

"Then Doc said, _'Now you listen to me. This man is very ill. He needs a comfortable bed and the proper facilities. Yes, he might die anyway. But if you give me no chance to save him, his death will be on your head.'_ Doc was very brave," May said. "He stepped up close, jabbed his finger in Mr. Jansen's chest, and said, _'When the town council hears he died on account of you refusing to release him to my care, you'll be out of this job!'_

"Mr. Jansen went quiet a moment with his glittering dark eyes looking fierce at Doc," said May, "then said, _'Well get him on out of here if you must_ , _and be quick about it. The man's too much trouble anyway, coughing fit to drive a body mad, spitting up blood.'_ And the poor prisoner heard every last word," said May. "Can you imagine? Had Chester the gumption to side with Doc, he wouldn't have had to face Jansen on his own."

"Well, May," I said, "I can assure you Chester would've defended Doc if Mr. Jansen raised a hand against him." I think Chester fears Mr. Jansen, though I didn't tell May that. I hope the governor's office rushes the appeal and decides not to hang poor Scott Harrison, and Ellis County finds a new sheriff so you can come home, Marshal. Scott was a fine young man before he tried to rob the bank. He and Tara were churchgoers, and came to the dances and sociables. I suppose Scott grew desperate from poverty.

I begged Tara not to ride with you and Scott to Hays. She's that devoted to her husband, and will see it through even if he hangs. I needn't ask you to take care of Tara while she's there, Marshal, as I know you will. The boarders miss you, none more than myself. I must stop writing now, so I can take the bread out of the oven before it turns to toast.

Very Truly Yours,

Mrs. "Ma" Smalley

Marshal,

Any word on the appeal for the condemned young farmer, and when will Ellis County hire a new sheriff so you can return to Dodge. This Deputy Marshal Jansen comes to the Long Branch regular, complains about everything I do, and treats me like a plebe. As he's tolerably respectful to women, I wouldn't mind if Miss Kitty told him a thing or two, only thus far she has not. I think she expects me to stand up to Jansen man to man. Besides wearing a badge, the fellow has huge fists and a foul temper, and I confess he daunts me. I wouldn't bother you just for myself, Marshal. Jansen cows most every man in Dodge, and bellows orders at me in front of Miss Kitty.

Things got so bad, I went to the council. They said they chose a quick-thinking forceful man, a fighter and a fast gun, to enforce the law, and I ought to defer to Mr. Jansen, considering my position.

Jansen marched to the bar last night and snapped his fingers in the air. Paying him no mind, I went on washing glasses, refusing to be summoned like a dog.

"You lost your senses, Sam?" Jansen said. "I need service here."

"What'll it be?" I said, not turning from my task.

"You are speaking to a deputy marshal," said Jansen. "Turn around and face me proper." I ignored him.

I sensed his big presence a moment later, coming up on my back behind the bar.

 _"Sam!"_ Miss Kitty warned from her post at the end of the bar.

I turned to face Jansen. "You heard me talking to you," he said, low-voiced.

"We don't allow patrons behind the bar," I said. "You want a drink, get out of my face and get to the other side."

Jansen lifted his hand to smack me one, and stopped with his arm up as someone threw beer at the back of his head. I couldn't see who doused him, as he was taller than anyone in the room. The men and gals standing at the bar laughed. Jansen whirled, glowering, and everyone went silent. "Who did that," he demanded.

Chester stood behind Jansen on the other side of the bar, his beer mug empty. "You did it, didn't you," Jansen growled.

"I done it," Chester said quietly. "So's you wouldn't hit Sam." .

"You always do Sam's fighting for him?"

"Wouldn't be a fair fight, you takin' Sam on," said Chester. "I jest lent 'im a hand is all."

"Well, that was disrespectful, Chester," Jansen scolded. "I'd like to throw you out of the marshal's office, except you're Dillon's hire, so the council won't let me." Chester made no reply.

Jansen moved to the other side of the bar near Miss Kitty, who promptly deserted her post to stand beside Chester. I drew Chester another beer. "Thanks, Sam," he said.

"What'll it be," I said to Jansen.

 _"Whiskey,"_ he snarled.

I poured the whiskey and slid it to him hard as I could. Jansen glared and cursed when the whiskey soaked his hand, but left off hounding me the remainder of the night.

This fellow bullies our townsmen all the time, Marshal, though we try not to cower in front of him.

I hope the farmer Harrison escapes the hangman's noose. Before he made his big mistake, he comported himself a lot better than this Jansen does. Would be a shame to see Harrison's sweet wife a widow. I recollect her pretty as a picture with her soft curls always tousled, smiling and saying hello whenever she passed me by. I have to get back to work now as the night crowd comes in.

Yours Sincerely,

Sam Noonan

Marshal,

Such goings on as never happened since you first pinned on the badge in this town. Think me cowardly if you will. Deputy Marshal Jansen frightens me near to death every time he sets foot in my store. I can't see how Chester tolerates working under a man like that. I urge Chester for his safety to quit until you return, but he says you'd want him to stay with it to help keep order.

"Mr. Jansen ain't hit me or aught like that," Chester told me. "He jest talks some hard, not so mean to me either like he does to the other fellers roundabout."

"There's always a first time, Chester," I warned. "Mr. Jansen talks to me like I'm a street mongrel. Why, I thought he'd throw his parcels in my face the other day when I didn't pack things just so."

I do have other news, Marshal, though unfortunately not pleasant. Doc is courting a nurse he hired, a fine-looking lady named May Tompkins. She's quite a bit younger than Doc, and Ma Smalley says Miss Tompkins traveled to Kansas to escape a tragic past in Philadelphia. According to Ma, Miss Tompkins' fiancé fell in love with another woman, who died of the typhoid after Miss Tompkins came to Dodge. Her fiancé corresponds with her often, so she confided to Ma. Doc had best break the acquaintance before the lady leaves him bereft, though of course it's no business of mine.

We hope you return soon, Marshal, and save us from this brute who calls himself a lawman. The Service has no right confining you to Hays. I've a mind to write Washington headquarters and ask what they're about. A shipment of mine arrives on the 3:30 train, so I must hurry to the depot.

Jonas

Dear Matt,

I miss you. I'd take the stage to visit you, only I cannot abide Hays, not even for one night's sleepover. Isn't the appeal for poor Scott Harrison taking an awful long time? I'm terribly afraid Ellis County petitioned the Marshal's Service to station you in Hays permanently. Please take care of Tara, as Scott is locked up and can't see to her. I worry about her visiting him in jail every day, as I'm sure she does, and won't be persuaded from it. I know you won't let any man bother Tara at the jail, and hope you make time to escort her to her boarding room if you can, Matt. Particularly at night. She looks like a little girl, with those big blue-gray eyes and her hair tumbling about, brown like a sparrow's wing, yet glossy. If her money from the church collection runs out, write me to mail her a cheque. Clothing, too. Had I known the appeal would drag on, I would have packed more in the trunk I sent by stage to Hays.

Ma Smalley and Jonas told me they wrote to you of Doc's new love, May Tompkins, a comely woman though a selfish one where matters of the heart are concerned. Doc is overburdened by his work already without this woman making him heartsick. Despite having graceful, womanly proportions, May is several inches taller than Doc, and a lot younger. I can't help thinking she's using him as a handy replacement to keep her company while she waits for her fiancé to recover from his other lover's death. May confesses everything about herself to Ma Smalley. Some confidante Ma is. Poor May's love life is the talk of Dodge.

Well, I invited May to my room for tea and had it out with her. "Are you still in love with your fiance?" I asked.

"Well . . . yes," May admitted. "Though I think he'll mourn the girl who died his whole life. He writes to me of her, not of us."

I was looking at her severely, so she bent her head and sipped from her teacup, her smooth dark hair reflecting the early spring sunlight shining through the window. "I'm not so sacrificial to remain faithful to my betrothed while he decides if he wants me for his wife," May said. "He could grieve this other woman for years, or marry someone else."

"I see," I said. "And if your fiancé writes you to come, you'll run to him and abandon Doc." I was being theatrical for Doc's sake, as I've never seen him desolated over a woman. Doc's too pragmatic for that. "May," I said, "Have you considered Doc's feelings at all? What if he's falling in love with you?"

"Doc doesn't act like he's in love," May said defensively. "I think he's fond of me, but—"

"He wouldn't," I interrupted. "Act like he's in love, even if he is. That's not Doc's way. Has he kissed you?"

"Yes," May said, flushing. "Several times, but very . . . properly. Not like he . . . oh good heavens, Kitty." She looked away from me out the window.

"If he kissed you, he loves you," I said. "At least he's starting to. If you really care for Doc, you'll leave Dodge, May. Now if possible, on the next train. Go back to your fiancé."

"Well, _really._ " May's dark-green eyes looked confused rather than angry. "Oh, Kitty." She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Maybe I shall leave. Only not just yet. Doc says he's heard of horse thieving not far from Dodge, and if they reach town, Mr. Jansen will go after them. There might be bloodshed, and Doc will need my services. He thinks they're after that little white-and-black mare of old Mr. Grimmick's, the one with the strange eyes who got her picture in the Times."

I think Doc's right about the horse thieves, Matt. I want you here that much more. Reports say the thieves are headed from the Texas border to Dodge. I doubt Deputy Marshal Jansen has your insight as a lawman. He's too involved in sticking his nose into everyone's affairs, scaring and shaming our men and throwing his weight around, or he'd be out on the prairie trailing the thieves, like you would, Matt, instead of waiting for them to hit Dodge. I think Jansen wants to show off his gun prowess here in town.

As Chester says Jansen never gets rough with him, I try not to worry and let Chester do his job, though I'd feel easier if he quit until you come back, Matt. I know Jansen scares Chester, although Chester takes care of himself and his friends too when he must, as we've seen time and again.

Jansen visits the Long Branch about every night, and he was hounding Sam. I wanted to crash a bottle on Jansen's head more than once, but I figured it'd shame Sam, having a woman fight for him. Well, Sam had enough of it the other night. Jansen came behind the bar, and when Sam got him told, Jansen raised his hand to slap Sam, and Chester threw his beer on Jansen to stop him. I was afraid Jansen would hurt Chester then, but Jansen didn't touch him.

When I asked Chester if Jansen treated him alright, he said, "Don't you worry 'bout me, Miss Kitty. He's more tolerable to me than the other men in town, particular the ones in jail. He smacks 'em around and shakes 'em up so's I feel for their hurtin'. I tell 'im stop when I see 'im at it, or I'll go to the council on him. Then he talks hard at me, but he stops roughin' up them men. _'You would do that, wouldn't you?'_ he says. _'It'd be like you, to do a sneaky thing like that behind my back. You can never keep your mouth shut about anything, Chester.'_ And I says to him, 'I'll go to the council if I need to, Mr. Jansen. I won't jest stand 'round watchin' you mistreat them poor fellers when they're locked up and can't fight back.' Then he says, _'Oh, quit your jawin' and make us some coffee. I'm not hurting those men.'_ So I quit jawin' and made the coffee like as he told me."

So you must come home as soon as you can, Matt. I'm sure you'd give that Jansen the trouncing he deserves if you were here. Though the days are sunny, Dodge seems cloudy and gray without you, and I still wear my winter woolens to ward off the chill even when the sun is high.

I must go now, as Chester just walked through the batwings. He seeks out my company even more than usual since you've been away and he has to put up with Jansen. And Doc hasn't much time for Chester these days. Doc spends all his spare moments with May. But I really do have to leave off writing, as Chester is peering over my shoulder, and I mean this letter to be private between you and me, Matt.

Your Faithful and Loving Kitty

Greetings, Matt,

Any word on Scott Harrison's fate? A doctor has his favorites, and I don't mind saying that Scott and Tara are two of mine. I actually was not surprised when Scott tried to rob the bank, as he did conceive some blamed fool schemes about how to get a dollar. If that bank clerk hadn't played hero by drawing his gun and clicking the hammer on Scott, he wouldn't have panicked and shot the fellow. Scott would be serving a prison sentence now instead of facing the noose.

Strange, the things a body recollects about folks you care for when their lives are endangered. Scott likes to whittle, and carve animals and such. He's pretty good at it, too. I recall Tara saying her husband's hair is the color of sand in the creekbed. I see him in my mind as I write, looking at his head lowered in concentration as he sculpted a bird for their mantelpiece. He could open his own shop just to sell his carvings.

I hope you and Tara won't see Scott hang, Matt, seeing how hard it is for you to witness an execution, and words can't describe what it would do to Tara. Were it lawful for you to lock her in her room in the event Scott hangs, I'd suggest it. She's determined to see it through, and no one can stop her.

I expect by now you've heard of my new love, soon to be my former love, May Tompkins. I was an old fool to think a fine young woman like May would want to settle down with me. She told me she has a fiancé in Philadelphia, and she's leaving Dodge to be with him as soon as she helps me nurse anyone who survives the imminent shootout between the horse thieves in the area and Deputy Marshal Jansen.

May told me of her plans over dinner at Delmonico's, and I confess I tried to talk her into staying here with me. "How d'you know this fellow won't use you just to spew out his grief over his dead lover?" I said. "He fell for this girl while he was engaged to you, May. He don't know his own mind; you should see that."

"Doc . . . ." May reached across the table and took my hand in both of hers. She never will call me by my name, which should've warned me she doesn't care for me in the way of love. I know _Galen_ isn't the most common name in these parts, but that oughtn't to bother May, as this fellow she 's engaged to is called _Zander_. I assume that's short for _Alexander._ "I still love Zander," May said. "It's not fair to you to accept your courtship when my heart is with another man. I can't know for sure if he wants me with all this distance between us. Can you understand?" she said, squeezing my hand.

Of course I knew it was a hopeless cause for me, but I ordered dessert and coffee, drawing the dinner out as long as I could anyway, as I much preferred to look into her eyes and hear her talk to spending a long night alone in my rooms at the office. May's eyes are like a green forest I'd eagerly lose myself in if she'd let me.

May said Ma Smalley wrote you about my demanding of Jansen that a consumptive in the jail be moved to my offices. The consumptive had burglarized the cashbox at Dodge House before suffering a relapse of the disease. Without notifying Jansen, I wrote a physician in Tucson with whom I have an acquaintance, and paid a fellow here in Dodge who I trusted to travel with the sick man to the Tucson doctor's offices.

Of course word got out of what I did, and Jansen was outraged. Folks told me he stormed down the walk toward my office, his hands balled into fists. Afraid he'd do me harm, Chester followed him. _"Get back to the marshal's office!"_ he shouted at Chester. Chester jumped a little at that, but kept following, and trailed Jansen up the stairs to my office.

Breathing loudly, Jansen plowed through the door as I drank my morning coffee. His face, naturally about the hue of a walnut shell, had congested dark red. In his distress, he'd forgot to smooth back his hair putting on his hat, and a wavy dark brush fell over his forehead under the brim. With his wide facial bones and dark eyes sparking, he called to mind a bull, though he's actually rather a good-looking fellow under the ferocity. I know he's not yet forty years old, or I'd fear he'd be stricken by apoplexy.

"Be careful, Doc," said Chester, who was also breathless. "He's powerful riled."

 _"You stay out of this,"_ Jansen roared, turning on Chester. _"I told you to get back to the office."_ Chester stood his ground and said nothing. I rose from my chair, unsure whether Jansen would take a swing at me.

"Doc, how dare you send that lunger away without my permission," said Jansen.

"I didn't ask you because you might've said no," I said, "and I wasn't gonna risk that. We've had a lot of rain lately. The man would've died in this weather."

"Who cares?" Jansen said. "He's dying anyway! The judge had a court date set to sentence him to jail time. You violated a court order!"

"I did not, any such thing," I said. "I knew nothing about any court date, and I'll tell the judge that if need be. He'll believe me before he believes _you._ "

"Why, you insolent—" Jansen stomped his big boot closer to me.

"Don't you talk to Doc thataway," Chester said.

"Oh now you're telling me what to do, are you, Chester?" said Jansen. "Just who do you think you are?"

Well, Matt, that made _me_ mad, him using that brutal tone to Chester.

"Wha . . . .? Now you get on out of here, you hear?" I said, raising my voice. "You don't use that tone to _anyone,_ not in _my_ office." When he just stood there huffing, I started pushing him. "I said _git,"_ I said.

Chester moved in on Jansen. "You heard Doc, Mr. Jansen," Chester said. "Let's go."

 _"You have no right!"_ Jansen shouted. _"Either of you! I've been appointed deputy marshal in this town, and I demand your respect!"_ His voice made my ears ring, and Chester winced at the noise. _"Do I make myself understood!"_ Jansen hollered.

"Well . . . yessir," Chester said quietly, nodding.

"Alright then," said Jansen. He stomped out of my office, slamming the door so hard the glass rattled in my medicine cabinet.

"My goodness gracious," Chester said in a hushed tone. "That Jansen is the single fiercest man I ever did lay eyes on. You alright, Doc?"

"Yes. I'm fine, Chester, thanks to you. No telling what he'd a done if you hadn't been here," I said.

"Weren't nothing," said Chester. "I sure wish Mr. Dillon would come home, though. Mr. Jansen's wearin' me down somethin' terrible."

Well, I tried to persuade Chester to leave the job until you get back, Matt, though of course he won't, not so long as he thinks you'd want him there, particularly with horse thieving reported near Dodge.

Writing of all this has tired me considerable, so I'll stop for now. I'm feeling my age and no mistake. Your friends surely miss you, Matt.

Doc

Mr. Dillon,

Such a tale I have to tell which you scarce won't believe. Night had come on, and Mr. Jansen and me was setting in the office. Mr. Jansen had been sleeping here nights, waiting for the horse thieves to hit Dodge. When I said why don't we ride out and track them down so folks in town come to no harm, Jansen said, "Tend to your own business, Chester. I'm in charge." So I hushed.

We was drinking coffee—Mr. Jansen behind the desk reading news, and me setting at the table with a new penny storybook, when there's a pounding at the door. I opened it to Moss's night livery man, Todd, who gasped like from a fast run. "They're here, Chester," Todd said. "Horse thieves." He come in the office, and I closed the door.

"Horse thieves shot through the lock when I was sleepin', Mr. Jansen," Todd said. "I woke with a gun barrel in my face, and I was so awful scared, I kicked the feller in the face hard as I could and ran out the stable. There's two others beside the one a layin' on the floor that I kicked. One said, _'Don't waste no slugs on him. Get them horses and let's get out of here.'_ "

Mr. Jansen buckled on his gunbelt as Todd spoke, while I loaded a shotgun and put on my coat. "Stay here 'til we get back, Todd," Mr. Jansen said. "I don't want you shot in case they're still at the livery.

"We'll run round the other end of town to that livery near the back street to get horses to chase them down," Mr. Jansen said to me. "Hopefully they'll want to get away with Grimmick's horses without a fight, and won't come looking for the other stable."

Mr. Jansen quickly outrun me. He raced to the end of Front Street, and waited on me to catch up. "Wait for me, here, Chester," he ordered. "I'll get the horses, and we'll ride out."

"Yessir," I said.

He run through the grass toward the back street, and come back in an amazing short spell, riding one horse, and leading the other by the reins. I mounted, and we galloped outa Dodge and out on the prairie.

The moon and stars was out, so we saw our way tolerable, but it was too dark to track. "How do we know we're followin' straight, Mr. Jansen," I said. "We can't see the tracks."

"They'll ride a straight line from Dodge," he said. "It's the fastest way to put the most distance between them and us. There're other signs if you look close, bushes crunched down and such. And the horses' leavings. We'll smell them before we see the piles.

"They won't get far with all them head," Mr. Jansen said. "Grimmick had eighteen stabled, last count. My guess is, thievin' fools as they are, they'll try to get away clean with every horse there."

We heard the horses' hooves before we saw them. Mr. Jansen motioned the way we'd take, riding wide around them and laying in wait behind the rocks up yonder. He told me what rock to crouch behind, close to him.

When the three men come riding by leading the horses from Grimmick's, Mr. Jansen stood up and shouted, _"Hold it right there and drop your guns!"_ The lead man drew his gun, and Mr. Jansen shot him out the saddle. I shot the second one, dead center of his chest as he went for his gun, and as he dropped from his horse to the ground, the third man shot Mr. Jansen, who fell.

I don't know why Mr. Jansen stood up and made a target of hisself, Mr. Dillon, instead of shooting from behind the rock. When it was all over and we was back home with the horses safe at Grimmick's, and Mr. Jansen in a bed at Doc's with Miss May Tompkins nursing him after Doc dug out the bullet, I told Doc the next morning how Mr. Jansen outlined hisself against the night sky like a big wolf howling at the moon, and Doc said that didn't surprise him as Jansen was arrogant. I mouthed that last word, and Doc could tell I didn't know the meaning without me asking. "It means he's proud, Chester," Doc said. "Thinks no one can hurt 'im."

Anyway, I shot the third horse thief who shot Mr. Jansen, direct middle through the chest again, and he fell head first out the saddle. He landed on his head and his body flopped over. I knew I wouldn't need to check and see if that one was dead, but I looked close at the other two men. Both were dead.

I hurried to Mr. Jansen, who lay on his back with his hand on his shoulder. "It's in there, Chester," he groaned. "Feels like a ball of fire."

"I'll bring your horse, Mr. Jansen," I said. "We'll get you to Doc's."

"The horses," he said.

"Don't think none on them," I said. "They'll run right home to Moss's. Reckon them dead fellers' horses will go with 'em."

I helped Mr. Jansen stand. He put his boot in the stirrup, but cried out when he tried to take hold of the saddle pommel. "I can't," he said, faint like. "I'll wait here, Chester. Send some men with a wagon to come get me, and another wagon to haul the bodies."

"Yessir," I said. I helped him sit against the rock.

"Chester?" he said. I waited. "Don't come back here with the men," said Mr. Jansen. "You've done enough work for one night. Tell Grimmick's man Todd to go to the livery and see to the horses, then get yourself to bed. You did a good job, Chester."

Crouched in the dirt with my face close to his, I nodded. Mr. Jansen's mouth twitched up quick like he was trying for a grin, and he nodded back at me. I wanted to pat him before I left, but figured he wouldn't like it, so I didn't.

After I sent the men out with the wagons, and told Doc about Mr. Jansen so as Doc could make ready, I didn't go straight to bed like Jansen told me, Mr. Dillon. I made coffee and sipped it setting up in bed, and kept the lamp lit even when I lay down. I wished you were there so we could talk, maybe play checkers, to ease my mind after shooting them horse thieves dead.

You heard from the governor's office about the appeal for Scott Harrison, Mr. Dillon? T'would be a sad shame if a nice feller like him got the noose for one tragical mistake, sorrowful hard on his lady, and hard on you too, much as you hate having to see hangings. Doc says you'd have to stand up close to the gallows as Hays got no sheriff now to oversee the hanging. I surely hope that don't happen.

It is just afternoon as I write this, but I'm powerful tired again from last night, and must take a rest before I meet Doc and Miss Kitty for dinner at Delmonico's. Miss May will stay in Doc's office to tend Mr. Jansen while Doc's out. Doc and Miss May was courting awhile, but things didn't work out, and Miss May's leaving Dodge soon as Mr. Jansen is healed up enough for Doc to nurse him easy without her help. So I truly must put down this pen and fold my letter for tomorrow's post, as I slept a wink in the middle of writing, and the ink blotted the paper some.

Your Friend Chester

Dear Kitty,

Good news. The governor commuted Scott Harrison's death sentence to fifteen years at Lansing Pen. He could come out a free man in half that time if he behaves, which I'm sure he will. I told Scott and Tara of Doc's idea for a woodcarver's shop, and they want to open one when Scott is released. Tara will travel to Lansing to be near Scott so she can visit him often. She made arrangements to work waiting tables at a restaurant in town there. Please tell Doc the news first, Kitty, as he's so fond of Scott and Tara, and Chester can tell everyone else.

I trust Doc holds up alright since Miss Tompkins went back to Pennsylvania. You did the right thing, persuading her to leave Dodge. Of course Doc'll never show it if he's saddened by Miss Tompkins' departure. Spend some extra time with him, Kitty, and you'll lift his spirits easy.

I was greatly troubled to read of the hard times our townsmen endured under Emmett Jansen. Jansen always struck me as a rough sort, and I was surprised the town council appointed him, though Chester working for him didn't worry me. Chester can get on with a forceful boss if need be. He's tougher than we give him credit for.

While Jansen mended at Doc's, he wrote me of how Chester did well when they took down the horse thieves, and I could be proud of him. Jansen told me he'd head back to the Arrowhead spread to his former job as a ranch hand. I get the impression from his letter that getting shot softened him some.

Ellis County finally hired a sheriff to replace the lawman still recovering at Saint Francis Hospital in Illinois from gunshot wounds. I will take the next stage to Dodge, and figure to arrive by the day after you receive this letter. I knew I'd miss you, Kitty, though not so much as I have. I lay awake nights thinking of you, and found work powerful hard on account of your not being near. I couldn't talk to you as you weren't here, and ate sparingly, so am too lean for the strength I need for the job, and must beef up when I get home. Tell Chester to have strong coffee fresh made hot, will you?

Your Faithful Matt


End file.
